Today Inca came to find me while I was watching Shannon pack up her things, chattering away to her mother on the phone. Inca took a hard look at her and said, “That one is a lost cause, brother.”
“Don’t say that,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I wanted it to be. I apologized, turning back to Shannon. Already there are tinges of gray stone in her aura.
Inca said nothing more for a long moment. Then she lifted one wing and swept it over my head. It was not gentle, but I felt the sympathy and affection in the gesture. “Come away with me,” she said. “You have done enough with this one for today.”
I did not agree, but I also could not see what else I could do. It is coming more and more clear to me that Inca’s words are less untrue than they are words I do not want to believe. It was a relief to leave rather than face that truth, though I will have to face it eventually.
“Where are we going?” I asked when we are away.
She glanced at me, half-amused, half-exasperated. “Did you forget that you and I have a new charge to look after? We should go and meet her, should we not?”
I had forgotten, in fact. I went with her with a bit more interest.
She brought me to a small river in Maryland, to a place that rang with laughter and talk. Swimmers were splashing through the water, swinging from a rope strung from a large tree, and paddling in boats.
“Who is ours, then?” I asked, looking over all the cheerful faces.
But Inca was gone, already sweeping down and plunging into the water. I was shocked at the speed with which she moved—even I could hardly see the movement.
An instant later, there was a mighty smack of flesh on the water, and some of the noise quieted for a moment, before laughter began to ring through the crowd. I was alarmed rather than amused, until I saw Inca rise from the water, drawing a spluttering figure to the surface with her.
The figure—a young woman with dark hair all around her head and an aura that glowed with mischief and humor—splashed at the nearest person who was laughing at her. “Go on, laugh!” she said indignantly. “Aaaaahhh, that hurt!” She collapsed to float on her back, wincing.
Inca rose from the water to rejoin me, sighing. “That is our new charge,” she told me, which at that point was unnecessary information. “Her name is Gabrielle Reddon, and as you can see, she is going to keep me busy.”
“Was there danger just now?” I asked, puzzled.
Inca pointed to the riverbed. “She dove, rather than swing, and from higher than she should have. All who swim here are warned that there are rocks at the edge of the pool. Had she not hit the water as she did, she would have struck her head.” Inca shook her head. “Charges like her are called ‘accelerators’ among the Guardians—one has to be quick on one’s wings to look after one like her!”
I took a closer look at Gabrielle as she climbed out of the water. She is a beautiful coppery figure, gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, and her smile is sweet and innocent. But I could easily see that this was an illusion—there was courage in her, courage that far outstripped her fear, and a taste for challenges and excitement. I have to admit, I rather admired that, but I could see how it could make matters difficult for Inca.
“Well, what will my role be in our collaboration here?” I asked.
Inca shrugged. “What do I know of a Cupid’s business? To be honest, you won’t be needed for some time yet—I understand that her relationship is carried out at distance, but it won’t be for long. I just wanted you to meet her.”
So she knew more of my business than I did, I am ashamed to admit. I have done this before—allowed one failure to make me neglect my other charges, those whom I still can help. I need to have a care it does not happen now. As soon as I have finished this, I mean to go to Danit and learn everything I can about Gabrielle.
Charges are found and lost, and the long fight goes on. I must not give up my part in it, though it now feels longer and harder than it has before.